Writing...
I don’t seem to have any control over what comes out. Its just like, the window opens and things fly through it. If I’m ready I can catch some stuff that flies through the window. If I’m not ready, it gets away.
I can never open the window myself. If I force myself to write when the window is closed, all I get is junk.
I fleshed a musical idea into a new song a couple of days ago: “Mantis”. For some reason my mind has been on the homocidal sexual habits of that particular species of bug. Read whatever you want into that.